A Marxist Has Never Written A Good

Each Soul Must Accomplish Its Task, Or It Would Not Have Been Sent Here.

As Long As People Will Shed The Blood Of Innocent Creatures There Can Be No Peace, No Liberty, No Harmony Between People. Slaughter And Justice Cannot Dwell Together.

In The Half Darkness I Winked To My Other Self, My Mad Dictator, And Congratulated Him On His Droll Victory. I Closed My Eyes And Felt The Warmth Flowing From Shosha's Head To My Face. What Did I Have To Lose? Nothing More Than What Everyone Loses Anyway.

When Literature Becomes Overly Erudite, It Means That Interest In The Art Has Gone And Curiosity About The Artist Is What's Important. It Becomes A Kind Of Idolatry.

Actually, The True Story Of A Person's Life Can Never Be Written. It Is Beyond The Power Of Literature. The Full Tale Of Any Life Would Be Both Utterly Boring And Utterly Unbelievable.